


Contentment

by broken_ankle



Series: Cunning Title to Follow [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (did you see what i did there?), Internalized Biphobia, M/M, Minor Castiel/Sam Winchester, POV Second Person, Unrequited Crush, and there's a reason other than deanial for once, briefly but it's there, but it's probably not what you're thinking, but we don't really know, it's certainly not what Dean is thinking, there's a reason for that too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_ankle/pseuds/broken_ankle
Summary: Dean is bi, and he accepts it.Dean wants Cas, and that's a fact.Dean is four and a half years older than Cas, and that's also a fact.Cas' new boyfriend is not Dean, but the last name is the same.Dean Winchester doesn't cry, but that's a lie.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Cunning Title to Follow [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907785
Kudos: 16





	Contentment

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, at this point I don't even know what this 'verse is doing. I mean, I didn't plan for this to happen. I planned on Dean having a big bi crisis at twenty-two and sorting it out with his brother's help, not this (but I fully support Dean coming to terms with his sexuality completely on his own).
> 
> Keep in mind that this is all from Dean's point of view, so anything that happens (or doesn't happen) is filtered through Dean. What Dean thinks is true is the truth.
> 
> Don't know if you saw the tag, but there's a brief moment of internalized biphobia here (brief in the sense that the text dealing with it is brief, not the period of fic-time). Also, Cas is almost five years younger than Dean, and Dean begins realizing his feelings when Cas is fourteen. A gay man and a bi man are called flukes by a bi man in denial. Bisexuality is referred to as a sickness by a bi man in denial. Reader discretion is advised.
> 
> I apologize if I offend anyone with this portrayal of a bi person. It is not my intention, and please feel free to tell me where the problems are.
> 
> Do feel free to drop constructive critism, if you have any. I always welcome means to improve. And if you just want to leave a comment, I'd certainly be happy to receive it.

There are a few hours every night when it’s okay to want Cas.

It’s not that you actively encourage those thoughts, those dreams, but as long as they don’t interfere with your day life, what the hell, right?

The only time during the day you let yourself think about those few hours is your morning shower, and even that really fucking rarely, otherwise you’ll stuff everything into the closet labelled “CAS” in bold print and forget about it. It used to be a single, tiny drawer, that closet, filled with only a single file about Sam’s best friend. The first entry is absolutely negative, because whoever makes your brother cry is an instant enemy in your books, but everything after that—

There’s a reason Cas has been Sam’s best friend since first grade.

There’s a reason the drawer grew to be a closet.

* * *

You can still remember the first time that you kissed a girl. You were in third grade, her name was Rhonda and she forced you to use her pink pen for a day. You’ll never tell anyone that you liked it.

Then you grew up, and you realized you weren’t looking only at girls. You freaked out, you can admit that, when you caught yourself looking at Aaron just like you were looking at Lisa. You were terrified for weeks about someone finding out, and you’re not really proud of your own thoughts in that period. You just wanted that sickness to go away, to leave you alone. You just wanted to go back to look only at Lisa.

And then Gabriel Blake came out publicly, and suddenly you had to get in front of a laptop and scour the Internet for a term you’d just heard for the first time.

You still remember how hard your heart was beating when you typed with shaky fingers that word, just one.

Bisexual.

You remember also how you slammed the laptop close when the page was still loading up, ashamed of yourself for daring to look it up.

Boys couldn’t like boys.

Boys liked girls.

That was how the world worked.

People like Lucifer and Gabriel Blake were flukes.

You managed to put the thought out of your mind for the following months, but there was always something in the back of your mind, a nagging doubt that maybe you were wrong.

Your stomach was in knots when you finally forced yourself to wait for the page to load and to select Wikipedia, because you couldn’t handle personal explanations, not yet.

You hastily closed the laptop only when Sam barged into your room to pester you about taking him and Cas to the skating rink.

You let months pass, months filled with stolen moments of research about that word, and you slowly let yourself open to the idea that maybe—

You remember all too vividly the day you stammered for five minutes to invite Aaron out on a date, and you still remember with a flame of mortification when your dad caught you two making out a week later and you tried to make excuses but he just sighed and told you to use condoms anyway.

You still become red, thinking about that.

Sam hugged you in delight when you told him you were bi. He didn’t even need to ask what it meant, the nerd. You almost cried, that day, and you may like boys too, but you’re still Dean Winchester, and Dean Winchester doesn’t cry.

And so two years passed, and you graduated high school, and you were, if not happy, at least content with who you were. You began working at the garage full-time, even if Dad and Sam and even Bobby all the way from South Dakota pestered you about college, but studying was never your strong suit, and they eventually let it fall.

You were content, truly, and you were happy for Sam who began high school and stumbled into the debate club almost on accident.

You kept being content for almost a year, and then everything screeched to a halt for the third time in your life.

* * *

You still remember that dream, how could you ever forget?

At fourteen Cas was every bit as serious as he’s always been, but that was the year he hit puberty and discovered he likes running.

That was the year you woke up in the middle of the night, your cheeks aflame and an uncomfortable stickiness in your underwear.

You were nineteen, working as a mechanic in your dad’s garage, and Cas was fourteen, a freshman in high school.

You were terrified of what the world would think if they ever found out.

So you covered it up, you tried so hard to forget that dream and to avoid looking at Cas as something other than your brother’s best friend, and you succeeded, even, for a while. You almost fooled yourself too, but you couldn’t forget about the thoughts you had about Cas in the middle of the night, couldn’t forget about the way your heart beat always a little harder whenever Sam forced you to drive them to the pool.

But it was fine, really. Sex and sexual attraction–all those hours of research really did bear fruit–are never easy, but you were managing it well. Cas was just another person you’d have liked to bring to bed—and God, how much sleep you lost over the absolute disgust at yourself. Cas was fourteen. He was fourteen, and you were nineteen.

But then things got even worse, because the sex dreams were joined by others that were a lot less sexual and a lot more romantic in nature. It scared you shitless all over again.

You had made peace with Cas starring in a few of your alone time fantasies, but the first time that you dreamt about holding his hand and kissing him while out on a date you didn’t dare look at him for a week.

You went to bed scared of what your mind would conjure. The eye-bags got so bad that even Dad took you aside and tried to talk about what worried you, even if you were too afraid of even breathing wrongly, lest he figure you out and treat you like the pervert you were.

Sam didn’t know why you were suddenly so tired and skittish at the same time, but he did his best to help you with the little you told him, the little he had to pry from you because Dad was one thing, but you’d never live with yourself if Sam hated you.

You slowly integrated even that new revelation into your life, and it wasn’t as traumatic as you’d feared.

Yes, Cas was four and a half years younger than you, but it was alright if you never did anything, not even look at him differently, right? If you thought about your brother’s best friend as something other than that only when you were asleep and couldn’t control your mind?

It went on for two years like that, with you making damn sure that no one would ever know.

You weren’t happy, of course you weren't, but you reached contentment again.

And then, just one week before leaving for college, Sam comes bounding down the stairs with a huge grin and his hand entwined with Cas', and your heart shatters on the ground at your feet.

Of course Sam and Cas are together.

Of course.

And you force a smile, and you force yourself to congratulate them, but inside you’re just a broken record of pain.

You had planned to tell Cas, really, to confess your feelings when they’d come back for his eighteenth birthday or Thanksgiving, but now that plan’s gone out of the window.

Whatever joy you can muster is wasted on Cas and Sam leaving–probably to go tell Cas’ siblings–and you can finally hide on your bed to mourn what could never have been in the first place.

Even if you are Dean Winchester, by the time Dad calls you down to dinner your pillow is damp with tears.

**Author's Note:**

> You can bet Dean has a drawer full of the pinkest pens he could find, and it's the most well-hidden thing in his room.
> 
> Fun fact: Lucifer and Gabriel are left-handed.


End file.
